


Beetlejuice

by restoftheworldfallsaway



Category: Dear Evan Hansen
Genre: Angst, Connor Murphy fic, DEH fic, Dear Evan Hansen Musical, Dear Evan Hansen fic, Dear Evan Hansen: The Musical, Death, Deh - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Self-Harm, Suicide, dear evan hansen - Freeform, ghost au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-03-12 19:13:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13553799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/restoftheworldfallsaway/pseuds/restoftheworldfallsaway
Summary: You move into the Murphy's old home, which they have moved out of to start fresh and let go of bad memories. But the memories are still alive in the house, more or less...This is a ghost au. It's not as lame as it sounds, or maybe it's exactly as lame as it sounds.





	1. God, I wish I was Winona Ryder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Past me: for she loved Connor Murphy far too much](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Past+me%3A+for+she+loved+Connor+Murphy+far+too+much).



Part I: God, I wish I was Winona Ryder

You jolted up, your sleep disturbed by loud (and quite rude) banging at your bedroom door. You shot up quickly, trying to figure out what the hell was happening at…

You checked your phone which was shoved under your pillow, the illumination making you flinch from your unadjusted eyes.

It was 12:00.

The knocking ceased momentarily, which made you think you were hearing things due to exhaustion. Plus, there was no way it was your parents, seeing as they were the oldest middle aged people you knew, hitting the pillow before 9:30. You relaxed, regretting it seconds later when the knocking came back.  
You brought your legs close to your chest, covering your mouth so whoever was there couldn’t hear your breathing. You decided to quickly get up, drawing the cover off your bare legs and moving nimbly to your empty closet, trying to avoid the maze of boxes that crowded your room. You’d just moved in, it was literally your first night at the house and probably the last day of existence. You thought this was a good neighborhood, and your parents had an alarm system. Surely your dad would come running to save you or maybe they’re calling the people. Or maybe the imagined murderer already killed them, coming for you to finish the job. You could feel the tears well up in your eyes as you closed the walk in closet door as quickly as you could. Fuck. Is this the part you were supposed to pray for forgiveness? Fuck. You had leftovers in the fridge from tonight that you were really looking forward to eat for lunch tomorrow. Then you thought how pathetic that was, having that be your last breathing thought of your fleeting life. Your door swung open, not hearing any footsteps but a sudden pounding on your closet door. You were shaking, hands covering your mouth, resulting in tears to flow.

“Zoe! I know you were in my room. I can’t get in. You fucking locked it you bitch. I’m going to fucking kill you with the key when I find it. Stop messing with my head, I don’t understand why you’re doing this to me.” The voice screamed out desperately, followed by angry sobs. Your tears ceased however. Zoe? What the hell? What’s happening? The closet door swung open, but no one was even there. All was quiet, you were so shaken up you couldn’t move for five whole minutes. It was like you were frozen. You were tired. Maybe, that was some sort of nightmare of sleep paralysis. Because where the hell did the voice come from. How the hell did your door fly all the way open without a single person in sight. You were hallucinating. That had to be it. From lack of sleep or from that weird black mold that grows in the walls you heard about in that short weird documentary on YouTube. That’s the only plausible thing. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to blink away to exhaustion. You finally exited out of the tiny space, going to reach for the closet door knob to cease it shut. Before your hand even got near it, it slammed closed, causing you to open your eyes swiftly.

“What the hell is your problem, Zo-” A boy stood before you, looking half dead. Not even half, but fully dead. His eyes were bloodshot, he looked like he had bags under his eyes, and even in the dark, you could see a large circular purple mark all the way around his neck.

You fucking started screaming.

“Shit!” he cupped his hands over your mouth, the temperature of Antarctica hovering over your lips. “I didn’t realize Zoe had friends over. Shut up you’re going to wake up my parents.” This is when you started crying. Not only did he murderer sneak into your home, he was a complete lunatic. His parents? Zoe? He was fucking nuts and he was definitely going to kill you. You went to shove him away, but your hands went through, like he was mist. Now, you started to ball. You were the crazy one. You convinced yourself you developed schizophrenia overnight and were losing it, or it was definitely the black mold. He looked as scared as you did, backing away. He touched his stomach, which his hands didn’t go through at all. His face was unreadable, then he was unreadable, vanishing into thin air.

You didn’t sleep the rest of the night.

—

The next day you walked around void, scared to go even take a nap. You convinced yourself it was just a nightmare. A nightmare you don’t remember falling asleep to or waking up from but that’s what you decided. You needed to tell yourself it was fine. You also googled that hallucinating black mold, and that really only grows in really old houses, so you eliminated that. It was fine. Everything was fine. Your parents commented on how tired you looked. Brushing it off, you just told them how excited you were about the new house, and you couldn’t sleep. A lie, but since you were lying to yourself why not make some more up. Night quickly approached as you tried to fix up your room, figuring where your desk and bookshelves should go. Plus, nothing else really weird happened. You stayed up, busying yourself by decorating. When the banging started again. It was midnight

“Zoe!”

Fuck. 

So, reality was hitting you. Were you crazy? Was this house fucking haunted. You never really believed in ghosts, but that wasn’t to say it didn’t scare the crap out of you. The door slammed open about, without a person there. You froze in place again, waiting for it to just appear again. It went straight to the closet again, banging loudly.

“Why are you doing this?” Similar words whimpering out of his mouth. You think about running into your parent’s room, like how you did when you were 5. But you were just stuck. The hallucination, or ghost, or whatever, had their back toward you. It was definitely a guy, his voice low and sort of nasally. He had shoulder length hair, you couldn’t tell if it was black or brown, and he was wearing a hoodie and jeans. He disappeared and the closet door slammed open, as it did the other night. Connor reappeared right in front of you, your eyes wide and just in utter shock.

He hissed: “Who the hell are you?” His eyes were a very dull blue with what seemed to be brown spot that now seemed more gray than anything. They were lifeless. Below was a nose that had a few bumps down the slope, and a wide mouth with a soft, but prominent cupid’s bow. His neck was even more visible than the night before, making your skin crawl as you peered at the purple mark that was the entire circumference of his neck. You subconsciously dug your nails into your palms, feeling pain within seconds. So you were definitely awake. Next was to test if this was a hallucination from sleep deprivation. You squeeze your eyes shut, as hard as you can you think your face might melt, scared to open them back up. He was still there, with a face of confusion mixing with anger. Okay, now it was ghost checking time. You gently went to put your arm through him, ghosts are just apparitions right? Your whole hand went through his body.  
“W-what..?” he stuttered out, almost like a croak.

You pondered, how could he touch you but you couldn’t touch him. A realization came to you, causing you to jerk your hand back. He could hurt you but you can’t even defend yourself against him. Tears started to spill again.

“Please don’t hurt me.” you whimpered softly, completely submissive.  
His eyes widen, freaked out that you thought he was trying to hurt you. “I’m not… I wouldn't…. how… what…” he was totally as confused as you were. Probably more scared than you, if that was even possible. This boy is dead and he doesn’t even know. The sound of footsteps approach your door, and the ghost was gone.

“Why is your light still on, sweetie?” your mother comes in, wincing from the brightness.

“Sorry, I’ll wrap it up soon.” you told her, again, like nothing was wrong. You quickly turned away, shielding your tears from her. She was oblivious and didn’t even notice. Your mom walks into your room, admiring your wall of old pictures of your friends.

“This is nice…” she says, trailing off knowing you weren’t happy with the move because you were an hour away from all your friends now. You hum meekly, not able to say a word about the topic. “I’m really sorry honey. It was just… You know your dad got this new job. And neither of us wanted to move your senior year but… We didn’t have a choice. You know that.”

“It’s fine, mom. I’ll meet new friends! And I’ll still have them! So I’ll have twice the amount of friends now.” you struggled to fake enthusiasm, but your mother’s density seemed to buy it.

“Well. You gotta go to the new school tomorrow. It’s Monday now, so you gotta get up early. You can even take my car. Maybe I’ll ask your dad if he’d be willing to buy you your own! Uh? How about that.”

“Sounds great. That’d be really cool…” you tried to say with fervor, but it came off more sarcastic.  
Your mom came over to you and planted a kiss on your forehead. “You know I love you, sweetie.” you nod in response as she turns to leave, turning the light out on the way out.

The boy didn’t come back again that night


	2. Teen Angst Bullshit

Part II: Teen Angst Bullshit

School sucked. You didn’t meet any new friends. Kids looked at you weird. The school was a lot bigger than your last one. You were late to one of your classes. And the walls were bare, with the exception of some random suicide prevention posters up. They gave you a sour taste in your stomach. The words “The Connor Project” almost screaming out to you as you passed them at the end of each hallway. Was Connor a kid at your school? Is? Was? That was even more disturbing to think about, there was a dead kid at your new school that everyone is probably mourning and you have no clue who this kid even was.  
Unless.

No. No! That was completely ridiculous. Absolutely not.

Once you got home, you found yourself opening your laptop typing the name of the school and the name on the posters.

Connor Murphy -  Obituaries

You clicked the link, leading you to an obit from almost a year ago that contained a school picture.

Fuck. 

The colored picture was a kid looking straight into the camera. A kid that had sad heterochromatic eyes. A kid with a bumpy nose. A kid with a wide mouth with a define cupid’s bow. A kid was long brown shoulder length hair.

A kid that looked eerily similar to whatever you saw last night.

You ran downstairs. Your mom making god-knows-what in the kitchen with your dad.

“Did a kid kill himself in this house.” you blurted out. You didn’t want to put it that way. That sounded insensitive. But the words were already out there. Your mom was shocked, eyes wide and she brought her lips in, as if she was sealing them. Your dad pushed up his sleeves and tilted his head to the right, squeezing his eyes closed as if he was trying to read the lines he was about to tell you, like they were tiny little cue cards in his head.

“We should all sit down.” he calmly said. Good one, father. Rehearsed that perfectly. The three of you head over to the couch, you sitting on the chair opposite, like they were having an intervention for you that you started.

Your father started. “There was a family who lived here. The Murphy’s.” Christ. It’s been confirmed.

“They had two children. Zoe… and er…” your mom took control of the conversation but paused before saying his name. “and Connor.”

“Last year… Around this time. Connor…” Your mother covered her mouth, like she was going to start to cry. You wanted to roll your eyes at her fake sympathy. 

Your father took her hand, “He hung himself, (y/n)”

Your mother chimes in, “(y/fathers/n)! You don’t have to be so brash. God! Sweetie, the young man, the Murphy’s son, committed suicide. He was very unhappy, sweetie. And if you’re ever going through anything-”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll talk to you guys about anything I’m going through or whatever.” You lied. Not necessarily about the depression bit, but more over on the side of telling them things. No way in hell were you going to tell them you thought the house was haunted. They’d think you were just paranoid. “Um… where did it happen?” They knew what you meant by it.

“In his bedroom. Which, is my office now. That’s why we had you take the girls room. Just because you were destined to find out. And I know that wouldn’t sit right with you” Your dad said. You sighed, sinking back in your chair. After letting all the information set in, you went slowly back up to your room, pulling out your phone.

You googled: exorcists in my area.

—

Bad news was that this new town didn’t seem to have any exorcists nearby, and the closest one was about 3 hours away and charged a hell of a lot. Money you didn’t have. Money you couldn’t even ask your parents for because imagining what that conversation would be like was one that wouldn’t go. Not even well, just wouldn’t go. So you decided if you’re going to be living here for the next year before going off to college. It was ghost befriending time. You felt a little stupid typing into the search bar “how to befriend a ghost that doesn’t know he’s a ghost living in your house.” Nothing. You went for something more broad. “Befriending ghosts”. More, not many, results showed up, causing you to scan through them. You read almost every article on the first two pages. Even watched some videos (with headphones in case the parents would hear). Also, you may or may not have taken notes. It was getting late, and you heard your parents go to bed. Connor was going to knock any minute; your phone was at 11:59. You walked up to your door. And as soon as a knock happened, you swung it open. Connor angrily standing there, bewildered now.

“Shit.” he said under his breath. You signaled for him to come in. “I,” he paused. “What happened to Zoe? What happened to my parents? Where are they.” he was started to catch on, realizing something was up.

Even though you were scared, you also felt like you owed him something. You weren’t sure why, but he needed to know. At least a little.  
“They don’t live here anymore, Connor.”

“What… What are you saying. Where the hell are they? And… H-how do you even know my name?” he stammered over his words, not looking at me. I tried to avoid his neck.

“Connor… do you know what you are.”

“What the fuck do you mean?”

“Do you know what I’m talking about?” He ignores you. Instead, he’s focused on the mirror hung up on the wall. Shit, he can’t look at himself like that. He will freak. You follow his line of sight, seeing you. Just you. Of course, he wouldn’t be there. He’s not living.

“Oh my god…” he started to breath heavier and heavier, until tear start falling.

“I’m so-”

“Stop! This is some weird nightmare. Some weird long nightmare… That I’m only remembering bits and pieces of as I go more and more into my sleep. I’m going to wake up. I’m going to go to school. I’m going to live a miserable life and make everyone else miserable. I’m-” He’s basically wheezing for air. He fell to the ground, you going by his side, going to try to embrace him until he disappeared.

Well. That went superb.

—

It had been a couple of days, and you saw no sign of Connor. But you could still sense him lingering, the air always seeming colder when he was around. You’d call out his name. And… Nothing. It was like he was hiding.

Anyway, school was the same. But today was particularly bad, it was worse by one thousand percent than all the other days combined.

You overheard some kids talking in English. “It’s the anniversary.” one said, almost as if he was amused.

“Shut up. I don’t know why you think it’s so funny. You’re messed up.” a girl hissed at him.

“I’m just happy, that’s all.”

“Happy?” she was repulsed.

“Well, if you think about it. It was either us or him.” It clicked in you. They were talking about Connor.

“What the hell do you mean by that.” she asked. You asked the same question in your head. You pretended to look for a pencil inside your bag, turning your body 90 degrees so you could actually hear better as you rummaged through your bag.

The boy with glasses breathed out, “I mean that he would’ve shot up the school if he didn’t snap his neck. That’s what I mean.” the girl looked at him with utter disgust. “You act like that’s far-fetched.”

“Connor wasn’t like that. You didn’t know him.”

“Yeah, and you didn’t either.” they paused. You glanced back, trying to figure out why they stopped. They both peered over at you.  
“Could you give us some damn privacy.” the boy growled. You quickly turned back, facing the front of the room, heart beating out of your chest. Shit. Shit. Shit. You already made an enemy, and you didn’t have any friends yet to comfort you. You held your breath for what seemed like the rest of class, zoning out of their conversation, the lecture, everything. The bell snapped you out of it. You tried to get out of there as quickly as possible.  
“Hey.” a feminine voice called out. You turn around. It was the girl. “I’m really sorry about Jared. He’s a real jerk. I’m Alana.” She stuck out her hand, but you didn’t shake it. You couldn’t. Hand sweat levels were off the radar.

“I’m really sorry for eavesdropping. That was so not cool.” you blurted out.

“No! No, it’s fine, really.” she reassured you, making you comfortable enough to make eye contact. “I, uh, I know you’re new here. You’re (Y/N) (Y/L/N)! I’m not a stalker or anything i just have to know everyone’s name. I’m running for senior president!” she told you, getting off topic. Shaking her head, “Anyway, enough of the self-promo. Um, what lunch period do you have?

“3rd…” you told her.

“Oh me too! If you want, you can come sit with me.” you weren’t sure if she was being nice, piteous, or deceptive. But you accepted, you didn’t want to eat in the library for the following week, pretending to catch up on your new classes.

Lunch came around and you looked all over for Alana. She spotted you before you spotted her.

“(Y/N)!” she called out much louder than needed to, and everyone looked. Your day was just filled with embarrassment. You walk over, with your head down and sit across from Alana. The boy, Jared was there along with another boy who looked severely uncomfortable as well. You made a mental note, knowing that feeling all too well.

“Hey, Alana.” you decided against a verbal hello to the boys. So you just gave them a nod. Jared just kind of stared at you while the other kid smiled awkwardly back. This was weird. Alana was weird. Jared was weird. That kid was weird. And you were weird. All weird in different ways, so it made it even weirder. You all weren’t even on the same ‘weird’ page.

“So, (Y/N). Sorry about the whole ordeal I made in English.” Jared, the boy with glasses who yelled at you, said. It wasn’t a genuine apology. Alana gritted her teeth at him. “Since you’re new to this school, I’ll tell you a little of its history.” He said, almost demented. It reminded you of something the joker would say (Heath Ledger’s joker, may Heath Ledger rest in peace). “You see, today an important day. It’s the day we lost a fellow student. The anniversary of Connor Murphy’s death.” you gulped down. This was all way too much for you. “Great guy. Really added to the atmosphere here. You see all these kids mourning?”  
No one seem to be upset. Oh… you got it. He was being sarcastic.

The awkward kid cut him off, “That’s enough.” he yelled, banging his hand on the table.

“Oh, Evan. I know you must be grieving greatly. You were his best friend after all.” Evan glared at Jared. So that’s his name. Everyone was dead silent. Like, the whole cafeteria. A girl got up and ran out. You swear to god, you recognized her. “Oh, look. Your girlfriend, Zoe. Aren’t you going to go get her?” Zoe? Fuck. Zoe was the sister. Evan followed her out, chasing behind.

“She still goes here.” you accidentally asked with concern aloud. Jared looked at you scarily, almost wanting to smirk. This conversation going exactly as he wanted.

“Oh! So you know about the Murphy’s? How’s that?”

“Jared, stop it.” Alana told him

“No!” he said, “How do you know about them?”

You couldn’t tell them. You weren’t about to let them know you live in that house. Jared would probably harass you some more.  
“I- I don’t. I don’t know anything. I’m just gonna go-” you start to get up.

“No! You can’t go!” he announced. Alana pinched the bridge of her nose. “Tell us about it?”

“About what?” you asked back.

“Are you an idiot or something? The house. Alana told us you live in the house. Come on! Is it haunted? I feel like Connor was a troubled soul. Did you exorcise it? You really should look into that!” Your eyes darted over to Alana. She didn’t look at you. Is this why she wanted you to sit there. You jolted up, walking rapidly out of the cafeteria. You went to walk down one hallway but you saw Evan trying to comfort zone, which she seemed more tense and remote in his present. You could tell it would be better for Evan to just leave her alone, but you decided against interfering. You barely knew what the hell happened other than the death of this kid Connor.

School really sucked.

Hours past. It was about midnight and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Really, you couldn’t stop crying. You started crying because of how no one seemed to be nice at this school, then you started bawling about how your old school was fine and how you missed all your friends and the familiarity and everything that this new place isn’t.

“Why are you crying.”

Your head shut up. Connor was at the end of your bed. He stared into the mirror. At nothing.

“You didn’t knock?” trying to make a joke but you accidentally let your voice crack.

The corners of his mouth pulled up, but quickly fell. He got straight to the point, “I’m dead, aren’t I?” he asked. All you had to do was look at him, and he got the answer from your eyes. He shut his eyes.

You wanted to get his mind off the matter. “School sucks. That’s why I’m crying, if you’re still curious.”

“If you go to the one I go to, you got that fucking right.” neither one of you corrected his wording of the present tense of “to go”. But you both knew.  
“People are mean.” you murmured out.

“Yeah… I know.” he clenched his jaw. Shit. You guessed that school was a factor why he did… it. “Who was mean to you?”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Then what do you wanna talk about because you don’t wanna talk about the fact I offed myself, so I’m kind of running out of conversation topics here.” You didn’t say anything. He squeezed his knuckles, digging his nails into his palms like you do sometimes. You didn’t know what to say, he kept going anyway. “It wasn’t Jared Kleinman, was it?” he asked bluntly. So that was his last name. “Fucking Christ, he’s such a dick.” his voice gets a little louder. Your face must of given it away. You made another mental note to show letting your thoughts show to easily. “Avoid him. Just ignore everything he says or does. You have to numb yourself at this school, okay.”

Your ghost was giving you survival tips on how to make it through senior year. It’s ironic, because, he didn’t exactly survive it himself. But this irony was not of the humorous sort. You felt sick.

“Hey, you alright?” He asked.

“Yes, I just feel dizzy.” the room really started to spin. It’s like you momentarily forgotten you were talking to a literal dead person and when you remember, you reacted the way any normal person would. You passed out.

“Hey, um, girl.” Connor never learned your name. “Hey, um. You aren’t dead too? Right.” Connor almost started to dryly smile to himself. “Because I’m the one who gets to haunt this house, not you.” He checked your pulse. It was strange. He seemed to be able to touch you, but you couldn’t touch him. He was having the same realization as you. He got up. Looking around your room for anything he could find more about you on. He looked along your walls, looking at pictures of you and your friends. There was one of you kisses some guys cheek. Connor got annoyed by it. Why did everyone have someone but him. He looked back at you, the unknown girl to him, and bought a cover up your body. Then disappearing.

—

The following day of school, you guessed it, sucked. You’re starting to see a pattern here.

Alana tried talking to you again. You didn’t want to talk with her though, you didn’t even want to look at her. Jared just kind of would glance at you and quickly look away, guilt lingering in his stares. Then, Evan just kept his head down. Not that you were mad at him or anything. He didn’t do anything. Well, not to you. It seemed something was up with that awkward kid. Like, did he mess around with Zoe or was he a dick to Connor? He didn’t seem like either type, so you let it go.  
Jared did approach you after school in the parking lot.

“(Y/N)!” he called out nervously. You kept walking, putting in your earphones to drown him out; drown everything out. You could tell he was still calling stuff out, but you couldn’t hear it over the lyrics of Karma Police. You felt a hand grasp your shoulder, turning you around roughly. Was this kid trying to fight you? He paused your music from your headphones. “Hey.” he said shyly.

“Please, just leave me alone.” You unpaused your music and started toward your car again. This time he ran in front of you, taking out your earphones.

“I’m sorry, (y/n). I don’t know why I was like that yesterday. Just, the whole Connor thing kind of tips me off.”

You cut him off not really caring to hear more, “It’s whatever. If you really wanna apologize, just leave me alone and that’d be more than enough.”  
“Please, just wait. I don’t want you to think I’m this massive asshole. I mean, I am an asshole. But I was just vindictive yesterday. Something happened after Connor’s death. Something messed up that some kid did and, I uh, I helped him with it. And I still feel guilty. It was fucked up, and I’m still angry about it. So I took it out in you, god knows why.” His voice started to tremble. You started feeling bad, now.

“Jared, it’s fine.”

“It isn’t fine. None of it was fine. Evan got out of hand, and I was just as bad.”

Confused, you stated: “Evan didn’t really do anything.”

“Not yesterday. Before… The Connor Project. Fuck. Never mind, I’ll just see you tomorrow.” Jared quickly b-lined for his car. You stood there, not understanding one bit.

Maybe Connor will have some answers.

You took a nap when you got home. You haven’t been getting much sleep, and you knew you’d have to wake up at midnight to talk to Connor. Your life was getting weird.


	3. You Weird Ass Spectrophile

Part III: You Weird Ass Spectrophile

You woke up to a weight at the edge of your bed. Your eyes fluttered open, Connor sitting before you. His hair in front of his face looking at one of your old yearbook. The one from 9th grade.

“You look really different now.” he simpered. Everyone’s 9th grade picture was cringy. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Drawing out each name.

You tore it out of his hands. “So is this how you haunt people? Humiliation? Because the average ghost would flicker the lights on and off, or throw my valuables at me, or write murderous things in my wall with my cat’s blood.”

“You have a cat?”

“You missed the point.”

“Are you really trying to tell me how to be a proper ghost? Because I don’t believe you have that sort of experience under your belt.” he slyly stated.  
Without even thinking (which you really should have fucking done), you remarked back, “says the one trying to tell me how to survive high school.” your eyes widen. Did you really just fucking say that. His jaw clenched, digging his nails into his palms, knowing he wouldn’t feel a thing. “Shit. that was supposed to be a joke. But I suppose jokes are funny, and that was just-”

He cut you off, “This sucks. This still sucks so much and I’m still in so much pain. But I can’t even hurt myself. I’m just stuck. Afterlife fucking suck. But high school was so bad, my family was so unbearable, I was so insufferable. Everything was starting to feel not real, I was numbing myself. No one was there for me. No one gave two shits about the freak. No one ever reached out. I had no one. No one to talk to. No one to vent to. No one.”  
Your heart started hurting.  An “I’m sorry.” was all you could muster out.

“It’s too late.”

“I know….” you paused. You understood how he felt. Being alone. Being with people didn’t even stop that feeling. But you weren’t about to tell him that. “Do you know an Evan Hansen.” There you went with the present tense again.

The lights started to flicker, you would’ve made a joke if you both weren’t having a serious conversation about it. “Yeah.” he said simply, trying to not get angry. There was pause between the both of you before he continued. “I thought he might’ve been a nice kid. He wasn’t. He made fun of me just like everyone else… With this note. God, that stupid fucking note.”

“What did the note say.”

“Doesn’t matter. It was some prank. Jared probably put him up to it. They just wanted to get in my head.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.” 

“I’m sorry.” He whipped his head at you, “Shit, I mean-”

“It’s fine, (Y/n). Just… try not to. Or whatever. I don’t give a fuck what you do or don’t do. Why’d you ask about Evan?”

“Jared brought him up to me today-”

Connor cut you off, “I thought I told you to avoid that fucking kid. He’s not a nice guy.”

“I tried. No, I tried. He like, hunted me down in the parking lot. Apologizing and telling me some stuff.”

“Don’t listen to him. He’s probably trying to make some joke. He thinks he’s the fucking class clown but he’s not even funny.” he paused, curious about what he might have said. “What was the stuff he told you.”

“Um…” you didn’t know whether to tell him about the Connor Project. It was obviously about him, but he didn’t seem to be fond of anyone at his school. Not even his sister. Now wasn’t the right time to bring that up. You know he’d be pissed about it. And now, it pissed you off, feeling like it was a pity project to make people feel better that no one actually cared about Connor.

“Woah, easy.” Connor said, sort of aggressively. He pulled your fingers off your palms, finding little red marks indenting your skin, the skin slightly broken. He brushed his fingers over the marks, you didn’t even realize you started to do that “I do the same thing. It just doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Connor didn’t re-ask what Jared told you. You two kind of talked about random stuff the rest of the night. Like your family (who were very different but similar in the rich neglectful way), your old lives (his living and yours where you used to live), and then music (which surprisingly was very similar! How many people can say their house ghost has a good taste in music. I’d take a wild guess and say next to none!) You stayed up until three, and both of you were getting tired (ghosts need sleep too apparently, existing in that form is draining.) You fell asleep first, curling up your body in a fetal position on your full size bed while Connor sat crossed legged. Before he disappeared, he had the realization that you were cute. Which wasn’t going to be good, finding you attractive.

—

“(Y/N)?” Jared whispered behind you. Snapping at you to get your attention. “Hey (Y/N) Pst! Hey, hey, (Y/N)!” he started yelling-whispering. “Heeeee-”

“What, Jared?” you hissed back. He leaned back in his desk, smiling widely at you in a goofy way.

“Wanna be partners?” he asked, pretending like you never said to leave you alone.

“Aren’t you usually with Alana?”

“She’s at some Student Council field trip for like three days, so I thought since neither of us have partners. Then we should just group up.”

You corrected him “You can’t find a partner.”

“Oh, I forgot. You’re miss popular. I mean, look at all the people begging to be your partner. What? You want me to get on my knees, profess my dire need of your partnership? Huh?”

“No don’t-” …And the boy was on his knees, making a scene.

“Oh, sweet merciful goddess of forgiveness. Please take mercy in me and take me on as your burden. Rise me up through the ashes and make me anew. Oh-”

“Okay okay. Please just stop… whatever you were just doing. Bring a desk over here.” you quickly told him, getting up to stop. You tried to hide your face. Half the class chuckled while the other rolled their eyes. So this was typical. Connor did tell you he was the class clown type. Though, Connor would’ve been a part of the half to roll their eyes.

The two of you started working. It was a Macbeth project. Recreating some scene in a modern day aspect. Jared wouldn’t shut up because how lame it was. Though, as you wrote the script, he would put his two cent on what memes to add. You ignored him.

You couldn’t help but to think about what Jared was telling me yesterday. You knew it was none of your business, but you couldn’t help to feel curious. Especially since you, well know Connor.

“Jared.” you said, not looking up from the paper you were writing on. “Um, what’s the Connor Project?”

He shifted awkwardly in his seat, “It’s a dead club.” You knew if he didn’t feel guilty about the whole thing, he would have chuckled at his accidentally pun. “The posters are still up just to make everyone feel better. Like the schools doing something when no one is.”

“Well, why isn’t anyone running it.”

“Why are you so curious about it all of the sudden. You didn’t want me to talk to you at all yesterday now you’re asking me questions about this. What’s the catch?”

“There isn’t one… I’m just… I don’t know. You, Alana, Evan, and Zoe just were really beat up about it. But no one else seemed to even flinch or bat an eye. Did Connor mean a lot to you.” you weren’t sure why you were asking questions you knew the answers too, people do that a lot to hear what they wanna hear.

“I don’t wanna to talk about it.” No one wanted to talk about anything, you thought.

“I see.”

Jared remarked: “You don't…”

“Why’s that.”

“You don’t know anything that went down. You know some kid killed himself and Evan started the Project. Which is now dead. T-the project, that is.”

“Well, I don’t know anything because no one will tell me.” You thought to yourself for a minute, waiting for a response. Evan started it. But Connor said that Evan wrote that mean note-

“Can we just get back to working in this stupid project.”

You complied. You still had no answers, a fuck ton of questions, and a memeless Macbeth project.

You got home later that day around 3. Connor was already in your room.

“You’re up early.” you say unphased. I mean, come on. A ghost lives in your house and you talk to him daily, what else could phase you at this point.

“Yeah, I haven’t really figured out why though.” he mumbled. He’s lying on your bed, staring at your ceiling. You notice scars all on his forearms. You don’t say anything. “I think my body thought it was 12 at night, when it was really 12 in the afternoon. I’ve been laying here for about 3 hours waiting for you to get home.   
Why don’t you have a clock in here.”

“Because I have a phone.”

“Yeah, but you don’t even have an alarm clock.”

“My phone is my alarm clock.”

He changed the subject, “How’s school.”

You shrugged your shoulders, looking around at everything other than him. He looked tired and so beat up. It made you incredibly sad. Connor caught on

“Is there a reason you won’t look at me.” he said, annoyed by your distance. “Am I that ugly?” That’s when you realized. Your ghost was cute. But he was hard to look at, seeing all the pain he had to go through. You wanted to start crying for him in a way. But what gave you the right to cry. Also, why did you refer to him as your ghost.

You made yourself make eye contact. Connor noted to himself that if he were alive, he would’ve blushed. But there is no blood running through his body anymore. “You happy. I’m just stressing out about this Macbeth project.”

“The modernization one?”

“Yeah, you did it?”

“I received it.” he said dryly, understanding what he meant. You looked away. He noticed. “Um, you had to partner up with someone right? Who’d you group with?” he asked, trying to steer back the conversation on the right road.

You couldn’t tell him, so you lied: “Alana. I’m not sure what her last name is.”

“Beck. It’s Alana Beck. You’ll ace that one. You’ll just have to deal with her annoying ass.” you smiled at him, reconnecting your eye contact.

“She seems okay.” you lied. You were still mad about what happened at lunch, and how she told Jared about your personal life. So you didn’t care for her.

“She’s, like, obsessed with how people see her.”

“Aren’t we all.”

“You don’t seem that way.”

“I am. I really want to make friends at this school.”

“No one’s worth your time…” he paused, going into a deep thought than coming out of it. “Alana, though. She does all this shit so other people think she’s this   
kind person like food drives. You know, that kind of shit. But she only does it for bonus points, like, so she can put it all on her college application.” You wondered if she was a part of the Connor Project?

“I mean, at least sees doing something.”

“But she’s not sincere about any of it. She doesn’t care.” he looked really sad again. Not even sad just empty. “I'm… I’m  just gonna go.”

“Wait, Con-” and he disappeared. Then, you felt really alone.

—

You tried facetiming your old friends. No one was able to pick up. It was Friday. And Fridays at your old town meant bonfire nights. Ugh, it was probably the first fire of senior year, and you were missing it. You were missing all of it. You went on Instagram to see all their pictures. First, you looked at the old ones. Then the newer ones. The ones showing you weren’t missed. You noticed a message.

Jared Kleinman wants to send you a message.

Ew. No.

You read it anyway.

@JaredKleinmeme: hey i realized that this has to be a rough draft by Monday and we only have half of it done. So we gotta meet up over the weekend. I would say my house but my moms are redoing our floors. So idk where you wanna meet.

No way were you coming here. Connor would have a fit. But you can’t borrow he car over weekends because your mom and dad both work during the day.

You messaged back.  
-Do you have a car? I don’t think we can come to my house?

He typed back within seconds.

@JaredKleinmeme: No, i don’t. My parents only let me use theirs when i go to school.

-Shit. Sure we can’t do yours???

@JaredKleinmeme:Positive

Connor only ever seems to be in your room. Maybe if you guys stayed downstairs he’d never know.

-Okay. We will make mine work.  
—  
Jared came over Saturday. You guys stayed in your living room. Everything was fine until your mom left.

Jared was focused on his computer. Writing out the rough draft.

Connor appeared at the stairs.

“Oh my god!” you screamed out, making Jared jump.

“What the hell?” Jared goes to look, but you grab his head to make him look at you. He turned flush.

“Sorry! I’m still getting adjusted to this house. Sometimes I just think I see things.”

Jared gets serious, “You don’t think it’s, like…. haunted or anything.”

He’s onto you. “Jared. Stop being ridiculous. I didn’t mean it like that.” Shit. Why did you make up that excuse?

“Yeah..” he chuckled meekly. “Sorry… I’m just… paranoid. Connor didn’t like me. For valid reasons. I wasn’t exactly nice to the guy-” a crash sounded upstairs. In a flash, Jared started collecting his stuff. “I-I-I’ll finish the project at home, just don’t worry about.”

“Jared. That was just my cat! It’s fine.” you lied. You didn’t have a cat.

“I know that this is going to sound crazy, but just in case Connor is haunting your house. He probably is a vengeful ghost and will kill me. I really have to go, okay. I’ll email you the script.” he practically ran out of your house. Connor popped up right in front of you as the door shut behind Jared, causing you to stagger back surprised.

“What the hell, (Y/N)?!” he fumed.

“No! What the hell to you, Connor!” you matched his anger. “Don’t do that shit when I have people over. Jared thinks you’re haunting the house now.”

“Well, aren’t I?” he hissed, “I can’t believe you lied to me. God, literally I told you to talk to anyone but him. But not only are you his friend, you’re inviting him over to your goddamn house. Are you trying to fuck him or something. That fucking virgin probably itching you to fuck him.” Connor was completely out of hand.

“What the actual hell, Connor. What’s your fucking problem!

“Jared! Jared fucking Kleinman is my fucking problem, (Y/N)!”

“Well he’s gone, thanks for that by the way! Just an FYI, I’d never even hug Jared if my life depended on it, let alone try and have sex with him. So, drop it!”

“Then what was he doing here.”

“A project! A stupid Macbeth one.”

“You told me you were working on that with Alana?”

Shit. You story fell through. “Shit… I… You know I couldn’t have told you.”

“Why are you working with him then?”

“Because he was the only one left in the class. Are you done interrogating me? Because now i have to worry about how to tell people my house isn’t being haunted by some freak.” You froze, your hands covering your mouth as if you could shove that last word back in, pretending you never said it.

“Go fuck yourself.” He screamed his voice cracking. You couldn’t believe you let that word leave your mouth. Especially directing it at Connor. You fucked up.

You didn’t see Connor for a full week. You tried apologizing, knowing he had to be around somewhere. He was. He always was. He’d watch you at all times. He’d   
watch you sit and watch TV, eat dinner with your family, watch you sleep, and write in your journal. You always felt his presence, the air always felt a little colder when he was around.

You couldn’t stand not talking to him.

The following Friday came. You looked at your friends pictures online. Then, you looked at the people from your new school pictures. And then you looked in the mirror. Coming face to face with yourself. All alone. Tears started rolling down your cheeks. You were so alone, it started to ache. Even your parents were out doing things.

You started talking out loud. “I’m so sorry, Connor. I didn’t mean that. I was… I don’t even know why I said it. I don’t believe that at all. I miss talking to you. You’re the only friend I have here and I miss you so goddamn much. I’m an idiot for saying that and I should never talk again because I always screw up and I’m the worst and I’m sorry I’m the person who moved into this house because I’m just like the people at our school. I belong there, I suppose. Even though I’m an outcast, a fucking loser. I am the freak Connor.”

“I guess we are both freaks then.” he appeared next to you on your bed. How didn’t you notice the weight before.

Tears burst out, and you cried loud. “I’m so sorry. You’re not a freak.” Connor brought you into a hug. You were shocked at first, his cold exterior touching you.   
You slowly put your arms around him. Not wanting to go through him.

You didn’t.

You were hugging him. Touching him.

“Connor?” you muffled into his chest.

“Mhm?” his face was buried in your hair.

“How am I touching you?”

“I think I’m letting you. I don’t really know. I don’t have a ghost manual.”

“That would’ve been handy.” the two of you chuckle lightly. But yours came out really weird because you were still crying. He squeezed you tighter.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

“I read your diary…” you disconnect from him, staring into his eyes, bewildered.

“You did what?”

He continued. “While you were at school today. I was going through your room. And I found your black book, noticed there was writing in it. And I kind of read it all.”

“You… read… all of it?” You weren’t even mad. What you felt was worse, you were mortified.

“We never talk about your problems. I don’t know. I didn’t know you felt that way… So alone.”

You were beyond mortified. You couldn’t believe he read the entirety of your diary. “Oh god….”

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m not gonna tell anyone. um… I mean I can’t. You’re the only person I talk to. Because I’m dead-”

“I get it, Connor.” you squeezed the bridge of your nose, not wanting to look at him. You wrote about everything in there.

“You don’t want to… you know. Um. Commit suicide.” Your head shot up, meeting his eyes. He looked so worried and sad. “Because, coming from me, it’s not at   
all worth it. Um, it didn’t solve anything. I almost wish I didn’t fucking do it. All I had to do was wait another year. Go to college. Pay for my own therapy. I could’ve done it. I was just so…. lost… and alone…. I couldn’t see a future. But you’re really great. You’re amazing. You’re like the best person I’ve ever met. And I wish I would’ve known you when I was alive. Maybe…. just maybe…” he quickly shut his mouth, knowing if he finished his sentence, he’d break. He turned away, knowing the tears that were welling up in his eyes were about to fall. You grabbed his hand, silently reassuring that it was okay to cry. Neither of you said anything for the rest of the night. You both just laid in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, innocently holding hands.

Both of you felt a sense of belonging for the first time in a while.


	4. Yes, befriend the dead kid’s sister

You shot up from sleeping the next morning, Connor’s body gone.

He read your diary. Fuck. You wrote about that one kid Tyler at your old school. That weird, awkward, awful sexual encounter with Tyler. Oh, my god. You’re humiliated.

He didn’t bring it up all weekend though - thank god - hopefully he never would. But then school came around Monday.

“Hey, um, (Y/N)?” a voice questioned you from behind Turning around, your eyes met Zoe Murphy’s. Shit. “I’m Zoe… er Murphy.”

“Yeah, um. I remember you. From the house sale, that is.” you stammered. Why was she talking to you.

“Oh, cool. Um, are you eating with anyone at lunch today? Because, I wanted to see if you wanted to sit with my friends and I? I’m just super confused on what we are doing in here and you seem to be the only one in class who actually knows what’s going on. And I’m trying to get in Juilliard, and I need to show them I’m not only good at playing in the Jazz band, but also at astrophysics. But if you’re busy, or sitting with other people, I totally understand.”

You shifted in your seat. You weren’t busy or sitting with others. But you didn’t want to sound pathetic. “I’m behind on some work-”

“Oh…” she looked incredibly sad. Like almost Connor-level sad. “That’s fine. Sorry, it was probably really weird for me to ask you like that-”

“No! N-no no no. It’s fine. Actually, I can sit with you! I’m not that behind.”

She smiled slightly, almost so subtly; you’d miss it if you blink. “Awesome! I sit at the first table by the window near the gym. Or, um, I could meet you-”

“Nope, I’ll just come to the table.”

“Sweet.” she nodded her head. “Um, I’ll see you there then?”

“Yeah… Um, for sure.” you said with weak excitement. Zoe waved and walked in the opposite direction.

What does she want now? People just don’t invite others to randomly sit with them. . Especially not the girl who moved into your old house who hangs out with your dead brother. Unless of course if you’re Alana and you wanted something out of it. Did Zoe want something more than a lesson in astrophysics from you?  
The first half of the day dragged on, you not really being there entirely because your thoughts kept drifting off to Zoe, or Connor, or Jared, Alana, or even Evan. Didn’t Jared say something about Evan dating Zoe, and Connor said something about a mean note from Evan. Nothing made sense. You weren’t just a step behind, you were a full mile.

Lunch finally came, and you found Zoe right away. She was watching the door for you to come. There were a few of her friends at the table. They all smiled and said hi when you sat down. You caught none of their names. Zoe forced a conversation out of you. She kind of reminded you of your old friends: nice, pretty, talkative, cool without trying. You told her that. She smiled bigger, almost more subtly. In the middle of your explanation of spectroscopy, she interrupted you.

“(Y/N), what are you doing after school?”

Hanging out with your dead brother. You decided to go with: “Um, nothing I can think of.” instead.

“Cool. Um, do you wanna maybe hang out after? Um, we can get coffee? If you uh, like coffee.” she asked, you couldn’t help but to think it was a trap.

“I do, I do. But I have to get the car back for my mom in time for her to go to work-”

“I could pick you up. I mean, I know where you live.” she tried chuckling.

You didn’t know how to get out of this one. And a small part of you yearned for any type of friendship between the living. “Uh… are you sure? I could ask if my   
mom could just drop me off?”

Zoe reassured you, “No! No, it’s fine. It’s not out of the way.”

“Only if you really want to.”

“Yeah, of course! Do you wanna go right after school?”

“Do you actually just wanna follow me to my, er, the house?” you felt weird using personal pronouns when it previously belonged to her. She nodded, not   
bothered by it though.

You regretted it as soon as you made the official plan. This was gonna be weird.

—

This was weird.

Zoe followed behind, even though she knew the way better, she probably knew the back roads. You parked the car in the driveway, and quickly got in hers. She was staring at the house, looking at Connor’s room window.

“I live in that one.” Pointing at her old room, knowing it was hers, to distract her from Connor.

“That was mine!” She says excited. “The closet’s really nice.”

You forced out a laugh, sounding real enough. “I know! I love it. Most of my clothes are still in boxes because I’m just too lazy to put them all away.”

“No way! Me too. More than half of them are still in tubs on my floor. My mom is so annoyed by it. She’ll probably hang them up soon if I don’t.”

“My mom would never do that. She’s been in my room once. Maybe twice. She doesn’t really care what I do.” Zoe frowns at this. “N-not like she doesn’t care   
about me or anything. Just like what I do. I have more freedom than I know what to do with?”

“Oh… That’s actually really cool. Do you want to come to a party on Friday then?” Zoe blurted out, feeling like she had been too forward.  

“Um…” you hadn’t been to a party since your old town. What were these parties like. How do you dress? How do you act here?

“You could come over to my house, er, new house and get ready with me and the girls.” she made it sound appealing. This was a chance to meet friends.

“Yeah. Um, I’ll think about it.” Or this was a chance for everyone to find you weird. You were caught in the middle of your two-sided thoughts.

“Cool.” she stated pulling into the coffee shop. “I go here all the time. They have really good Matcha Tea. I’m not a huge coffee or tea person, but Matchas really   
good.”

The two of you went in, ordered (both getting Matcha, Zoe was right, it was really good), and sat down. It was odd at first. It felt like an awkward blind date that   
neither party wanted to be there. But after a while, you warmed up. You told her all about your old town, school, and friends. She told you about your new town, your school, and her friends.

“What are parties like here, anyway?” you gushed. “I’ve only been to parties where I know everyone. We play pong, drink, couples hookup in bathrooms, and then everyone talks about it at school the following Monday on who won at pong, who got blackout, and who had sex.”  
She laughed wholeheartedly, “It’s basically the same. But we play flip cup.”

“Shit, I don’t know the rules for that.”

“Don’t worry. It’s easier than pong. Just watch what the people do before you.”

You both laugh, having genuine fun. She didn’t ask anything from you. Or use you for her advantage.

Something was off.

But you left it alone. She drove you home. It was around 8. You knew you had to work on some homework before bed, even through her protests. She told you to   
keep sitting with her at lunch, if you wanted to. You agreed.

You walked into your house smiling.

“Why was Zoe’s car in front of the house?” Connor asked, scaring you half to death the minute you entered your room.

“God. You need to stop just popping up. You’re going to give me a heart-attack.”

“What? So you wanna hang out with her now? Are you sick of me? Did she tell you things about me. All the terrible things I did to her? Did you talk about me? No, that’d be ridiculous. She’d think you were crazy.”

There Connor went off again, rambling out his anxieties. “Slow down, Connor. We didn’t talk about you at all. You didn’t even come up.”

“Of course I didn’t, why would she talk about me. She’s probably glad I’m gone.

“That’s not true at all. The day… The Anniversary. She was crying in school. And she just looks sad all the time.” his face fell with even more grief. “Not like… ‘All the time’, like just when she thinks about you.”

“I thought you guys didn’t talk about me.”

“We didn’t. Sometimes you can just tell.”

“She wants something, (Y/N).”

“Like what. If she did, she would’ve asked today, not asked if I wanted to sit with her at lunch or go to this stupid party on Friday.”

“You’re going to a party? Who’s house?”

“Maybe… and I don’t know? I don’t even know if I’m going.”

“Don’t. Nothing ever good happens at party.”

“Are you, like, a party expert?” you ridiculed.

“Shut up. I’ve heard what happens.”

“I’m headstrong, Murphy. Now get out, I have to change.”

“I’ve seen you change before…” he said nonchalantly.

You turned red, “What!?” you hissed.

“I thought you knew I was there. You just walked in and threw off your shirt and pants.”

“Oh my god.” you held your head in your hands.

“ I tried to leave, but i still have to open doors to get to places. A common misconception about ghosts by the way. Or I just haven’t figured it out yet…” he didn’t   
realize your embarrassment, continuing to ramble.

You cut him off, “You’ve seen me naked?” you exclaimed.

“No! Just bra and underwear! Not full on. Not like Tyler.”

“Tyler?” you asked confused, then it hit you. “Oh my god!” You run to your bed, burrowing your face from all the humiliation. “Get out, you perv!” You shouted,   
throwing a pillow through him. “Wait how can things go through you if you can’t go through them?”

“Exactly what you said. Things can go through me, but I can’t go through them. Or at least I haven’t figured it out.”

You didn’t actual care at that moment, your distress taking over of all other worries. “Oh my god. Just get out.” you groaned, huffing into a body pillow.

He laughed as he closed the door, letting you get changed. “Lemme know when you’re done.”

You wait a minute, making sure you can’t sense him in your room. He may have been lying about the whole he couldn’t go through things. That’s when you decided. You were definitely only going to change  in your closet from now on.

—

Friday came. Sitting with Zoe at lunch was a lot of fun. She never brought up Connor or the house. I mean, why would she bring Connor up to you? To her knowledge, you don’t know him. You went home and immediately started getting ready for the party.

“Are you really going to that stupid fucking thing.” Connor groaned.

“Yes.” you mumbled, doing your hair in your mirror.

“Wouldn’t you rather hang out with me.” he huffed, lying on your bed, reading something.

“We hang out every day.” You looked over at him, realizing your diary was in his hands. “S-stop reading that.” you turned red, getting up and tackling him, trying   
to get it out of his hands. He held his one arm out, using the other to gently stop you. Your whole body was basically straddling him. Then, he turned red. Well, as much color as a ghost could get. You finally retrieved it, not noticing his bashfulness. “Ha!” you announced. Closing the book and putting in back on your bookshelf.

Connor just fell back on your bed, just staring at you. He never noticed how your hair framed your face, or how your eyes got all sparkling when you were happy,   
or how the corners or your mouth would twitch up when you blushed, revealing subtle dimples.

“What are you looking at. Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” you joked, laughing at it yourself.

“Stay here. With me.” he asked vulnerable.

You paused, his tone throwing you off. You shook it off. “Come on, Con. You know I gotta go out and seem social. People are gonna start to think that I’m staying home all the time to hang out with my only friend, who’s a ghost.” You’d never called him Con before. He liked it.

“Not a chance people are going to start thinking that…” he smiled, finding that scenario completely ridiculous. And finding you completely perfect.

“I’ll be home tomorrow! All day, and we can play video games or watch movies downstairs when my parents leave.”

“Why do that tomorrow? When you could do that tonight?” Connor kept trying. You walked over to him, giving him the ever so lightest peck on his forehead. His   
stomach felt like it was filled with butterflies. He got that saying now.

“Tomorrow, Connor. I promise.” A beep came out from outside. “That’s your sister. I gotta go. How do I look?”

“Perfect.” he said glumly, but he meant it fully.

“I’m serious, Connor.”

“Me too…” you looked at him funny. “Go, she’s going to honk again. She’s the most impatient person ever.”

“Okay, okay.” you stood before the mirror, brushing your hair in the front, then to the back, then to the front again. Letting out a big, nervous sigh, then heading   
toward the door. “Bye-bye Murphy. Don’t have too much fun without me!” you called out, your door slamming shut behind you. Connor looked out the window. He meet eyes with Zoe, who was staring straight at her old room window, making what seemed like eye-contact with him. He basically ducked to the floor.  
Once you got in the car, Zoe seemed panicked. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you good.”

She quickly faked a smile, “Yeah! No, I’m good! We gotta pick up the rest of the girls.” Something was up with her.

The night sped by. You got the girls, went back to Zoe’s, touched up hair and makeup, and went to the party. It was actually only like three blocks away from your house. You were all immediately handed shots as soon as you guys walked through the door. And then a red solo cup of beer. And then a mixed drink. This house party was a lot bigger than the ones back home. You had to drink more to feel comfortable, and you sort of blacked out. Coming in and out of consciousness. At one point you were playing flip cup (and dominating), then you were doing a beer bong with Zoe (the girl somehow beat you there, not coming across as the drinking type), then you ended up in a bathroom. On a counter. With your legs and arms around some guy. Who was making out with you. What the heck were you doing.

“Connor?” You drunkenly said.

“No, er, Jared.” that sobered you up. You shoved him off, crossing your arms.

“Oh, my God. No.” you wiped off your mouth. “Hell, no. What the fuck Jared?”

“You started making out with me first. Why the hell did you just call me Connor.” Shit. Why did you call him Connor. You jumped off the counter and stormed out   
of the room. Someone grabbed you by the shoulder.

“(Y/N)! I’ve been looking for you.” Zoe slurred. You tried focusing on her face, but it was spinning.

“Listen, Zoe. I gotta go home.” you said back, definitely slurring your words too.

“No! You can’t!”

“Yeah, I gotta the other girls are here. You’ll be fine.”

“No, it’s not that. I need to ask you about Conmor.” She mispronounced his name, somehow slurring an M into it.

“What do you mean. I didn’t know him Zoe.” you said nervously

“No. You do. Jared told Alana that you said you see things. And there was a bang in your house and you pretended it was a cat. But you’ve never talked about a   
cat before. It was like you were trying to cover up. And you kept asking questions.”

“No. No it’s not like that. I just see the posters every day.”

“I saw him, (Y/N)! And you just remind me of him. Like, not like you’re mean but like, I don’t know, your humor. Like, you say things Connor would from time to time. And sometimes, I swear you smell like him. It’s like you talk to him. And I saw him, (y/n), in your room.”  
Shit. Shit shit shit. You were in deep shit. Everyone is going to think of you as a fucking ghost whisperer. You had to fix it.

You started laughing, cackling.

“Zoe. Are you serious right now? Are you that drunk? We gotta find you a bed. God, you’re a treat. I haven’t laughed this hard since my old town. Wow.” you pretended to wipe a tear from your eye, humming out the last bit of fake laughs. “I’ll see you Monday.” You turned around and your smirk fell. You had to get out of there. You stumbled down the stairs. Looking for where you came in. Why does being drunk make you lose motor control and your sense of direction?  
You somehow made it out and you were walking back home, tripping over your own two feet. You didn’t even realized you made it inside until you had to throw up. You bolted upstairs, going to bathroom and letting all the different kinds of alcohol up from your stomach into the toilet bowl

“(Y/N)?” You rose your head up. Shit, was that your dad.

“Occupied, Dad.” you called out, feeling like that didn’t sound drunk at all. It sounded very drunk.

“Let me in, it’s Connor. Your parents aren’t here.”

“No. I’m gross right now.” you whined out. You were too drunk to talk to him. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Who the fuck am I going to tell. The dead bugs in your window?”

“I don’t care about who you tell. I’m scared of what you’ll think of me.” There was a pause. “Connor?”

“Let me in, (Y/N).” he said so gently and nice, that itself almost made you blush. You crawl over to the door, using the knob to pick you up and then unlock it, not even realizing you locked it in the first place. Connor opened it slowly, peeking his head in as if we didn’t want to startle you. You leaned against the wall,   
pointing a finger at him.

“I drank a lot.” you confessed, trying to smile and act not as drunk as you were.

“Yeah, I can smell it. Are you ok-” you interrupt his sentence by running to the toilet. He followed behind, holding your hair behind you. He saw that in a movie once. He patted your back, which made you smile into the toilet.

“Isn’t it gross that we put our face so close to the toilet when we puke.” you joked, which did derive a laugh about of him.

“You’re drunk, (Y/N).”

“I know.” you lean your head against the toilet set. “Will you help me up? I wanna brush my teeth and gargle.” Connor complied, helping you up by the waist and   
leading you over to the sink. You got your blue tooth brush and started brushing.

“Uh, (Y/N)… You forgot the toothpaste.” he shyly told you. You started to laugh.

“Oh yeah, can you help?” he picked up the toothpaste for you and squeezed (a lot) on. Round two: you started brushing again. Making a lot of toothpaste foam.   
Connor just laughed. Looking at you in the mirror, only slightly annoyed he couldn’t see himself. Even like this, with all that shit dripping out of your mouth, you still looked pretty to him. He wondered what he looked like. It this state he’s in. He noticed he still had the scars on his wrists. He couldn’t help but wonder about his neck. He couldn’t help to think it’d be unfair for him to be able to look at you all the time and you had to look at the mess he was.

You brought him out of his thoughts, “Connor.”

“Mhm?”

“Stop staring at me. You’re making me self-conscious.” you blushed madly in the mirror. He looked away, allowing you to spit all the toothpaste out of your mouth. You slowly turned the water on, missing the handle the first try, and rinsed you mouth off. You took the Listerine and just started drinking it. Connor quickly took it away from you. You gargles the rest of what you had in your mouth as Connor reached for the cup. You almost spit all over his arm, if he wasn’t able to let stuff go through him.

“I’m glad you a ghost in that instance. Because that would’ve sucked.” He noted you said instance, but didn’t say anything. He walked you to your room, “How many people can say there dead best friend helps their drunk selves out. Zero. I win!” you giggled.  
Connor rolled his eyes, “You’re going to be hung over tomorrow.”

“Nooooo…” you retort, as if you were a child.

He sniggered, “We aren’t going to be able to play games or watch movies. Guess I’m going to have to read your diary again.”

“Connor! Anything but that. I’ll stay awake. The less drunk I am when I go to sleep, the less hung over I’ll be. Science.” you told him, realizing the two of you were on your bed.

“No, you should go to sleep. The longer you sleep, the less hung over you’ll be. That’s Science.”

“But I don’t wanna go to sleep.”

“And why’s that.”

“Because I want to talk to you more.”

“We can talk tomorrow.”

“No.” You rise up, your face getting close to Connors. “I wanna talk now.” you whisper.

“A-about.” Connor stammered out. You were so close to him. He’d never been this close to anyone.

“Everything…” you close the distance, placing your lips on his. He’d never kissed anyone before. He never thought he would when he was dead. He kissed back   
for a split second, until he remembered.

He was dead. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let you kiss a fucking dead person. He was probably cold and disgusting. He broke the kiss.

“I’m so sorry!” you panicked, creating unwanted distance between the two of you.

“Why did you do that.” Connor hissed, getting up and pacing.

“I don’t know. I’m- I’m sorry. I’m drunk.”

“Don’t ever do that again.” Connor jumped up and stomped out the door, disappearing mid-shut.

You were mortified. Your thoughts raced, thinking of everything that happened, until you passed out from all the alcohol.


	5. The Finale

Part V:

Shit hit the fan, then more shit hits the fan, then shit hits your heart, then you forget about this whole thing after 20 minutes because you probably start some other fanfic. Thanks, I hate it.

Connor was right. You were hung over. Like ‘your head was going to explode’ hung over. And to top it off, too much shit went down last night. Let’s recount the list of fuck ups and mortification events (wiNK), why don’t we? First, you made out with Jared Kleinman, which is the most embarrassing sentence you have ever thought, let alone you actually did it. Subsequently, Zoe told you she basically thinks you talk with her dead brother, which she hit the nail right on its head. And lastly, Jared wasn’t the only guy you kissed. You kissed Connor. The dead kid. The actual, literal ghost that haunts your house. And not only that, but he rejected you. Basically disgusted by the whole thing. It was like you were his Tyler.  
Your hands felt permanently stuck to you temples, massaging in rhythm with the tapping of rain outside your window. How fitting. It was as if the world was mocking your past actions. You wanted out of your own head, you wanted out of this world. It was getting too much. Everything about this new god forsaken town, school, people, and house was getting too much.

To make everything even better, note the sarcasm, Connor didn’t show up at all over the weekend, and you didn’t call out to him. He made his intentions clear.  
It was like a silo of a lifetime worth of problematic thoughts was dumped on you over a 24 hour period. You didn’t know what to do with any of it. It went from 24 hours of recounting, to 48 hours of over analyzing, and 72 hours of regret and remorse. You skipped school Monday, knowing Jared was going to hassle you about the bathroom, and Zoe about Connor. You just wanted it all to stop momentarily. You couldn’t figure out if you were being melodramatic or if you were completely justified. You always had a flair for the dramatic, but all this you could do without.

Just as you felt your thoughts start to slow and swell down, the main factor of your anxiety showed up, causing them to move back up to speed.

“Why aren’t you at school?” Connor popped up for what felt like the first time in a millennia, leaning against your door.

You lay sideways on your bed, back toward him, not wanting to even turn around and meet his gaze. “I was starting to think I made you up, nice of you to return. Why didn’t you show up all weekend“?”

“I had to think.” he breathed

“Well, that’s exactly why I’m not at school.”

“You’re lying.” he stated, exasperated.

“No, I’m not, Connor. I just want to be alone.” Now, that was a lie. You wanted nothing more than someone to be there for you. You just didn’t want to talk about… well, this. You wanted to forget about it. You wanted everything to go back to normal before you fucked it all up. But that’s not how things work, especially things involving Connor.

“You’ve had more than enough time to think. You had alone time all weekend. You didn’t do anything but mope around. Are you really that upset that I didn’t want to kiss you.” Ouch. The way he enunciated the word you made you feel like your body snapped in half. One half   
falling limp, while the other was ready to fight back.

“It’s not just that!” you bellowed, sitting up and balling your sheets in your hand, getting him to shut his mouth. “Stuff happened at the party.”

Connor clenched his jaw, “Did someone fucking hurt you. D-did someone touch you because I swear to God, bring them over to this house, and I’ll give them a good scare. He won’t bother you again.”

“No! That's… that’s not what happened. N-not exactly. Why do you even care?” Connor speed over to your bed, sitting on the quilt at the bottom and being extra careful not to even so much brush your feet with any part of him.

He hesitated, choosing his words wisely. “Did you willingly do something…” he sounded hurt. 

He didn’t make any sense to you

You knew you shouldn’t tell him about Jared, so you were trying to be vague and you admitted: “I was super drunk… Like blackout… And then I was like… making out with someone.”

“Fucking Christ, (Y/N)…” His non-beating heart felt like it broke. He was trying so hard to repress his feelings toward you.

You swung your head around, finally meeting his eyes and regretting it, “It’s not like I wanted to, I do questionable shit when I’m drunk. I don’t remember even how I got to the point to making out with Jared.” Shit, you dropped the ball. You didn’t mean to tell him it was Jared of all people.

“Kleinman?!” he hissed, glaring at you. “You kissed him?.”

“It didn’t mean anything.”

“So you just drunkenly kissed me too?” Connor sprung up, starting to pace next to your bed as he rubbed his neck, taking in all the information.

“What? No. I did that on purpose. Because I wanted to. But obviously, you didn’t.”

He stopped, his back facing you now, “That’s not why I freaked…”

“Then explain! Because that was humiliating that you freaking yelled at me for kissing you. Like, I didn’t know you were so disgusted by me.” you put your head between your knees, wanting this conversation to end. Connor didn’t get the memo, as he continued.  
“God… I’m not. I’m not at all. Fuck, (Y/N), it’s not that I didn’t want to kiss you, I didn’t want you to kiss me…”

“W-what? What the hell does that mean? That’s like… the same thing. You don’t need to sugarcoat it for me-”

He flopped back down on the bed, this time not caring how close he sat to you. “No, it’s not the same thing. I think you’re perfect.” He confessed, causing your eyes to soften. You didn’t know he actually felt the same for you. “But… God I feel ridiculous. If you haven’t noticed, I’m dead, (Y/N)! That’s repulsive. I’m not alive. It’s not even like I’m a body, that’s six feet underground right now. Doesn’t that disturb you? I’m just some an apparition. I’m not real. I can’t take you out on dates. I can’t grow up with you. From my knowledge, I’m eternally going to stay this way.”

You froze. That actually made a lot of sense. But not only was it not fair to you, it wasn’t fair to him. You were going to grow up. You weren’t going to stay at that house forever. You were going to go to college; you had a dream. A dream involving anything but this town. Connor watched your thoughts race, as if he could physically see them run through your head.  
“I think we need to stop talking.” he muttered.

“Connor.” you went to protest. “How are we gonna do that? We both live here.”

“No. You live here…” and with that he disappeared.

“Con?” you called out looking around, reaching out where he was previously sitting. “Connor? Come on. We need to talk about this. We need to figure it out.”  
Nothing.

“Fuck.” you wailed, letting a frustrated sob slip from your lips.

You were alone again. This time, for good.

You had to go to school the next day. You had an in big unit test in calc, which you weren’t prepared for. Connor usually helped you study. Jesus Christ, Connor. You winced just by thinking about him. After, you had to go to English, which you prepared all morning on how to ignore Jared; which was a waste of time because he didn’t even try talking to you either. He didn’t even look at you. Then lunch rolled around. You didn’t know if you should go to Zoe’s table and pretend like nothing was wrong, or the library. You opted for the latter, which was mistake number one. Zoe came up within the first 5 minutes.

She plopped down next to you, “(Y/n), are you avoiding me?” It came out more as a statement than a question.

“No… I just… I missed yesterday so I need to catch up on school work.” you didn’t want to speak; the words forced themselves out of your mouth.

“Well, I’m sorry. About the Connor thing. That must have been super weird, I don’t know why I brought it all up. And I’m sorry about the whole Jared thing, that’ll blow over in a week, trust me. That happened to me when I was a freshman.”

“Wait… How do you know about the Jared thing?”

“Shit… Of course you didn’t hear yet. I thought that was why you skipped.”

You leaned forward, tuning in fully now, “What are you talking about?”

“Clark is saying he saw you run out of the bathroom with the bottom of your skirt up to your   
waist, and Jared pants down-”

“That didn’t happen.” You said in disbelief, your eyes scanning Zoe’s seeing if she was just trying to mess with you. She wasn’t, her face showed sincerity and empathy. Her face showed pity. It made you sick.

“I know, but people make shit up. Like they see the bathroom as the hook up room. So, imaginations go wild, trying to make any drama they can to make their life more interesting, and others a living hell.”

Your breathing started to get heavy, “Who the fuck is Clark.”  
“(Y/N), just don’t worry about it. No one will talk about it after this Friday. There will be a new rumor by Monday.”

“That doesn’t validate any of it.” you broke. “I didn’t do that.”

“I didn’t say you did. I’m just saying-”

“Just shut up!” you barked, causing heads to turn. Zoe sat back in her seat, eyes wide open while she gaped at you as you collected your things, getting up and storming out of the library. She didn’t follow. Tears raced down your face, trying to beat them to the nurse’s office.

You slammed into someone when you opened the door to the stairwell a little too abruptly.

“Shit, (Y/N).” You didn’t even have to look up to see who that voice belonged too. You knew it all too well. It came from the mouth in which yours was on a couple of days ago. It was Jared.  
“Leave me the fuck alone.” You announced, bewildered, still not meeting his eyes. He was the last person you wanted to talk to.

“Come on. Stop-” he tried grabbing your arm but you tore loose. Your eyes met his finally. They looked about as sad as yours. But that had no effect on your already rejected mood.

“Don’t fucking touch me you asshole. Don’t ever fucking touch me again.” he let go, cowering before your fit of rage. He couldn’t muster out anything to you, your hurt eyes told him the truth, while your words scared him half to death. Jared watched in agony, his eyes not leaving your back until you made it to the glass door of the health room.  
You entered the nurse’s office, “I don’t feel well.” you let out a cry.

They didn’t ask any questions, they saw your tears and let you lay down, seeing if you would feel better before just sending you home. You knew you wouldn’t. Since the school was big, there were multiple beds in each room. Someone was already in the room you went it. You didn’t know his name, but he was definitely at the party. You remembered him trying to flirt with Zoe at one point of the blurred night.

“Are you (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” he asked, almost with mirth. You didn’t answer, which pretty much itself answered the question. “Yikes,” he let out a scoff, “heard about Kleinman fucking you in the bathroom. You could better.” you ached after he said this. Everyone knew. Or rather, heard. You couldn’t handle it. You remembered what Connor said. You had to numb yourself. So you did, this kids words going right through you. You were out of tears. You pressed your nails into your palms. You didn’t even feel it.

“He’s Jewish, right? Do Jewish people have small dicks.” he kept going, trying to get a reaction out of you, pausing every few seconds. “You always seemed so innocent before. You were the quiet cute new girl. Every guy just kind of left you alone because you seemed like you didn’t fuck around, you looked like a prude.” Brief pause. Nothing. “Boy, were we wrong. You must have been desperate for dick. Desperate enough for Jared’s.” Pause. Nothing again. He continued. “Now, I heard a few things. He was a virgin and finished in like 3 seconds, and then that his dick was so small, you ran. I also heard it was too big, and you ran because you thought you couldn’t take it, but I feel like the man himself started that one.” he sat up, peering at you as you just stared, desensitized, at the ceiling. “Seriously? Nothing? No reaction or comeback? Guess it’s true then. You’re no fun. Maybe that’s why only Jared wanted to fuck you. I guess you really can’t do better than that little bitch. I bet you were passed around at your old school, you fucking slut.”

You wanted to lunge at him, but you had no will. You felt disgusting. You felt worthless. He got up and left, saying something to the nurses like “The quiz is almost over; I’ll go back to class now. Thanks ladies.”

Five minutes past. Footsteps scampered over to your room, you hoped it was just a nurse.

“Are you feeling better?” It was, the only wish you got today so far.

You wanted to cease existing, but you choose a different word choice: “No.”

She looked at you sympathetically, which you internally cursed at her, not wanting her pity.

“How about I let you go home, you seem to be having a rough day. You can sign out in the office. I hope you feel better, sweetie. Take some medicine and a hot bath when you get home.” You nodded, waiting to get up until she left. It was like your legs had a mind of their own, moving without command.

You trudged to the office and then to your car. The ride home was a complete blur. All you could really think about was slamming the gas, closing your eyes and seeing how far you’d go until you’d slam into a tree or go off the road. You got home though, feeling Connor’s presence as soon as you walked through the door. He probably heard the car pull in. With the exception of ghost boy, no-one was home. Your dad was at work and your mom was probably at yoga or doing some other rich people thing; so you went upstairs and closed the bathroom door quickly behind you so Connor wouldn’t follow. You decided to do what the nurse told you. You started tapping a bath, looking in the mirror as the water filled your tub.  
You were a mess. Your mascara was everywhere. You hair was matted in the back; your eyes seemed sunken in. The sight of you made you sick, you almost wanted to punch the mirror so you didn’t have to look at yourself. It reminded you of Connor the first time you saw him. 

You looked so… dejected.

You made yourself turn away. You wanted to stop thinking. About Connor, about Zoe, about Jared, about that asshole in the nurse’s office, about what people will say at school about you. To you. About what they were probably already saying. But most of all, you wanted to stop thinking about yourself. Your life, your loneliness. You were officially alone, with only your thoughts to keep you company, but they were doing the opposite. You wanted them shut off. You wanted to somehow turn yourself off. You started feeling water hit your feet. The tub was overflowing. You didn’t care; you didn’t even bother changing out of your clothes. You just immersed yourself in the tub, letting the water run.

Then… You put your head under.

That’s when Connor started banging on the door. You didn’t hear him, your ears now full of water and the faucet still running.

The water gave you silence. It was stopping the thoughts.

“(Y/N), what are you doing? Water is fucking coming out from under the door. Open the   
fucking door up.” he screamed, starting to tear up. He knew what you were doing. Connor knew he didn’t have much time, so he knew he was going to have to break the door down. He backed up, positioning his shoulder to truck down the wooden door before him.  
Instead, he went through. Almost running straight into the wall adjacent to the door. So, he finally figured that out. He saw you under the water, letting out air bubbles and pulled you up. You gasped for air.

“What the fuck are you doing, (Y/N)?” he bawled, turning off the faucet with his other hand. He squeezed you against his body. His coldness and your wetness made you shiver. His sobs were heavy and loud. “Why the fuck would you do that. What were you fucking thinking. You weren’t! You weren’t fucking thinking at all.”

You realized you were crying, it was hard to tell with the water mixing in with your tears, “I’m sorry.” You croaked. “I didn’t want to think anymore.”

“Don’t fucking do that shit. I thought I told you it wasn’t worth it.”

You broke, you voice cracking halfway through the sentence, “It’s like you don’t even remember high school, or how bad life just sucks. It’s unbearable.”

He got mad now, “You’re so fucking dense. I remember high school every day. I’m eternally stuck in high school. You have less than a year of it. Open your eyes, for fuck’s sake, (Y/N). Learn from my mistake. High school is hard, but it’s only four years of your life.”  
That’s where you jumped in. “But what if it isn’t just four years? People never stop talking about people. I hear my mom all the time talking shit in ladies from her work. When am I going to stop feeling like this.”

“You don’t care what people say about you when you’re 40 and making a 6 figure salary. And maybe you won’t ever stop feeling this way. But, I fucking promise you, it will become manageable. You’ll be able to say fuck off to your bad feelings. And… you’re going to find someone who makes you want to live. God… I figured a lot of shit out being dead. And if I could go back in time and tell living me this, I would. But I can't…  But I can tell you. I can show you. And that’s one hundred times better than saving me.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do, (Y/N). You mean everything to me. I care about you more than I will ever about myself. And maybe that’s not healthy. Maybe I shouldn’t pin all my hope on you, but you are all I got. There isn’t hope for me anymore. But you still have a chance. The only thing I want is for you to be happy. You to live until you’re old and full of wrinkles and those gross age spot but you’ll still be beautiful. You to have kids, and even grandkids. Hell, maybe finally get a cat.” The last part made you simper. You met his gaze. He was crying so hard too. He brushed his thumb along your cheek, wiping off the bath water mixed tears, wanting to stay like that forever. You wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him even closer, as if the two of you weren’t already basically morphed into one person from your close proximity. Connor was a lot stronger then he looked. He lifted you up, and carried you to your room, gently putting you down on your bed. You didn’t care you were soaked, Connor laid down next to you and pulled you back into his arms, letting the world fall away.

You just held one another. For hours, the two of you were content in each other’s presence. Before you finally feel asleep, you realized something. Your head was silent, the only thing you heard was Connor singing asleep by the Smiths no louder than the crickets outside your window. You did have one thought however. You knew you wanted to wake up and fall asleep next to Connor forever. You knew you were in love with him.

Connor felt it too. But the difference between you and Connor was that he was a realist.  
Sometimes what you want isn’t what you need. Connor knew this.

 You drifted out of consciousness as Connor peered at you, humming out the final lines with the smallest smile.

“Don’t feel bad for me. I want you you to know. Deep in the cell of my heart, I really want to go. There is another world. There is a better world…” The rest was muffled, you were officially asleep, Connor sang the rest in his head.

You woke up. You had managed to sleep until the sunrise. Even though you felt better, something felt off. The room felt… warm?

Connor. Where was Connor? Why was the room warm?

You slowly sat up, your hand accidentally bumming your journal. It was opened, facing down. You were puzzled as to why your journal was out. Was Connor reading it again? You flipped it around, making sure to say on the page it was open to.

It wasn’t your hand writing. It was a note.

    (Y/N) (Y/L/N),  
        "I am sorry..."

It occurred why the room felt warm. Connor wasn’t there. He wasn’t there anymore… The song. How didn’t you connect the dots before sleep consume your fleeting moments with him. You didn’t want to read his words. You wanted to hear them, at the very least. You wanted to slam it shut, and call out for Connor. You wanted him to stop messing around, and just come out. Something instead you made you read it though, it felt like a push inside you.

       "It was time. I guess I did what I needed to do. I thought that was bullshit. I thought I’d spend eternity in that house. That was my worst nightmare, until I met you. After you, I almost wanted to. But (Y/N), I have to go now. I don’t know where, but the minute you fell asleep, it felt like my body was rising. Maybe heaven’s real, and I’ll be there. I didn’t want to leave you, but if I didn’t leave, neither of us would have. You would have stayed in this fucking god forsaken house, for me, and I couldn’t let you do that. You are going to do remarkable things. Maybe we will meet again. Maybe reincarnation is real, and I’ll be “reborn” or some shit. Maybe I’ll be your future cat, who knows. Maybe if it is real, the next life we can be together. Or if heaven’s where I go, we can be together there. Though, I probably won’t go to heaven, I smoked too much weed. Maybe I’ll be smoking with the devil. Now, that’s a sight to see. I don’t have much more time, now I regret wasting it talking about marijuana and Satan. But, (Y/N), thank you for giving me hope. Thank you for showing me there are good people. That there are caring people on this planet. When I died, I didn’t write a note or anything. Because there wasn’t anything to say. Because there was no one to write a note to. But, now there is. There is you, and… it’s hard now. It’s so much harder now to let go. I wasn’t able to save myself. But I was able to save you. And that’s what I needed. I’m glad you were my first kiss, even if it didn’t go exactly as planned. It was the best thing that ever happened to me. (Y/N) (Y/L/N), I love you. You were my first and only kiss. You were my first and only love. And to quote the Smiths “No it’s not like any other love.  This one’s different because it’s us.”  
Thank you, (Y/N), and stay alive. I love you.  
    Connor Murphy"

By the time you finished reading it, the page from filled with your tears.

Connor Murphy was like no one you met before. And you would never meet someone like him again. He was one in a million. He was one in 7 billion. He was the one and only Connor Murphy.

And he was right. He was right about everything. There was hope. There is hope. Because like Connor had told you, you found your reason to keep living. Connor. He was your reason, and he always had been. You owed him everything. You had to grow old. Because he didn’t get the chance to. Because there are other people who need to know their worth. You could be someone’s Connor, and the cycle could continue. And even though you couldn’t grow old with Connor, he was still with you. Connor was always there, somehow. You didn’t know how to explain it. Instead of the frigid feeling that’d give you goose bumps when he would be around before, it was replaced by a warm sensation in the pit of your stomach that reminded you were alive, you were happy, and you were never alone. He was the warm feeling you felt when you woke up that first day without him. And the warm feeling that you felt for the rest of your life.

You didn’t know where exactly Connor went, but you knew he was with you, and you knew you’d meet again. And that, you learned, was enough.


End file.
